


When The World Gives You A Gift.

by birbproceeds



Category: Real Person Fiction, Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-02-24 13:11:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2582573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birbproceeds/pseuds/birbproceeds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan Haywood, after years, is all alone. He walked with his co-workers and watched them all fall one by one. Yet, after returning to the old Office, prepared for death and to take what is left of his friends' memories.  Though sometimes life throws you a curve ball and Ryan meets up with one more employee. What will he do to keep them safe?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Empty Chairs and Empty Tables

_There's a grief that can't be spoken_

His heart beat in his ears. The sound of the only thing that kept reminding him that he in fact did live. That he was a survivor of this hell of a life. The feel of blood sliding along his skin, dripping to the floor. He didn't even feel it. He couldn't feel it. Ryan Haywood rarely felt anything anymore. He knelt at the center of the office he used to call home. Where those he loved moved with such passion at what they loved to do. They were such fools back then. Three years, two months, two weeks, and four days. He was careful to remember days, he had to remember. He needed something. That time, though short in the past, were years, were centuries. In that time all their cities had fallen, destroyed by the military trying to help. And his friends... His old co-workers they were gone. He was the last of the Achievement Hunters. He had came back to grab something of each of theirs. To remember surely. 

The feelings of going back to Austin were long forgotten. 5 was lost in the early weeks, forgotten and overrun by Austin excess. Ryan had talked those he found into not going back. Anyone there would be gone. Anyone. He was alone now. He had lost them all. He had forgotten their voices as one by one they fell. But he would not forget faces. He wouldn't allow himself to forget them. 

_There's a pain goes on and on_

As he looked around he felt his heart thud and thud. He felt his entire being bend and break as he remembered each of their names, voices, and laughter. God, he missed their laughter. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move fully. Yet, Ryan walked around the room. Footsteps silent but body shaking. He reached his old desk, finding a photo of his family hidden away. They were lost so early... So soon. His body jumped as he slid the photo into his bag. He didn't think hard as he grabbed the old GTA jacket he was given oh so long ago. He slid it on, it was warm. It would be useful. He walked shakily to Geoff's desk. 

A photo of Geoff, Millie, and Griffon lay on the floor. After looking over his fallen friends, he slid it into his bag. He was crying by now, silent tears sliding free as he thought about him. About his friend who was so careful. Who allowed the bottles to leave his hands until one herd took what he loved the most. He remembered the smile on his face as he held Ryan's hand. He remembered his last words, “ I can see 'em all, Rye. They're waitin' for us.” He was drunk. He was drunk and bit and dying. Gavin was pulled out by Michael, the red head kept his head down as he knew the man that was nearly a second father was dying. 

He went to Michael's now. Fingers sliding over the idiotic photo of Geoff on the desk. He shook his head, trying to breathe evenly as he shook. Ryan had to breathe. Grabbing a photo from the wall of all the lads with Meg and Lindsay making silly faces. He pocketed the photo. He went to Gavin's desk and took his creeper scarf. He could remember the lads. The silly boys who fought to keep everyone smiling as the world failed them more and more. He remembered them disappearing for days before running back with Gavin in Michael's arms. There was so much blood. He knew he couldn't save him. He knew. Yet, he tried so hard. He left Michael and Ray with Gavin, knowing they should have the last goodbye. Ray exited soon after, standing by Ryan's side. He knew this was harder on Michael, the boy that fought for Gavin's survival, who had failed to save his wife and now his best friend. Ryan took in a slow breath. He wouldn't think about how he ran in, watching Michael smile as Gavin awoke and bit into his neck. As they died together, hand and hand.

Jack's desk was last. He stood before it, shaking. He couldn't focus through his tears. He fell before the desk, head bent as he thought of his old friend. Of the man he went to for focus. For optimism. His hope. He held him. He cradled him as he went. Ray had left them before. He had left with an apology and telling him he had to find his family. Ryan wished the boy luck, but Jack was getting sick and being alone wasn't helping. He died weeks previous to Ryan's return to the office.

_Empty chairs at empty tables_

Six desks. Six chairs. Six people he had lost. Six people he had loved. And now, he was alone. He was alone for good. The survivor of Achievement Hunter and he wanted none of this. He never did.

_Now my friends are dead and gone_

He had buried them all, excluding Ray. He had dug a hole and laid his friends inside, sealing them with soft words. Promises to keep going. To find who he could and keep them alive. But he was so tired. So weary. He couldn't do this anymore.

_Here they talked of revolution_

Ryan remembered hearing them speak of fighting back. Of people still being alive and teaming up against the dead. Of life and living.

_Here it was they lit the flame_

_Here they sang about tomorrow_

They spoke of seeing the end. Of eventually getting back to life and living without fear.

_And tomorrow never came._

They were lost long before their sweet thoughts got close to their fingertips.

_From the table in the corner_

_They could see a world reborn_

_And they rose with voices ringing_

_I can hear them now!_

He can still heard their voices, their false promises. He whimpered. He was shaking, he was broken and he couldn't feel or hear the world around them. Ryan wanted to scream, to beg the voices to stop. To make him stop. His fingers squeezed around the scarf.

_The very words that they had sung_

_Became their last communion_

_On the lonely barricade.._

_At dawn._

They always would die, and they would stop until the next dawn before continuing on. Until he was alone. He wondered if he would be able to end himself. Or would he walk until some survivor destroyed him? He knew he would not see peace. He would not feel it. He would not be able to breathe fresh air without the moans in the background. Ryan was ruined for life, forever burned into the memories of those he lost. He hadn't spoken since Jack died. He couldn't. There was no point to speak, when the voices around him heard him without words.

_Oh my friends, my friends forgive me._

_That I live and you are gone_

He hoped that they would forgive him. That they had it in their hearts as they survived above the clouds that he would have gone with them if he could. He wished he could be free with them.

_There's a grief that can't be spoken_

_There's a pain goes on and on_

His entire being was filled with loss, with the desperate need to see them. To feel their touch on his worn skin. To feel familiarity. To feel living people's emotions.

_Phantom faces at the window_

_Phantom shadows on the floor_

All he had was the phantoms. All he had was the ghosts that tormented him. All he had was voices that made him turn as he walked through barren cities. All he had was conversations he had all heard before. Footsteps came by. Footsteps echoed, but he still didn't move.

_Empty chairs at empty tables_

_Where my friends will meet no more._

He was shaking. He was scared. He was scared of being alone forever. Weeks hurt. Forever felt much too long. He was covered in dirt, pain in his stomach as he held himself up. Yet, it was the opening of a door that made him look up. 

_Oh my friends, my friends, don't ask me_

_What your sacrifice was for_

His friends died hoping it was for the best. The sacrifice meant nothing if he died. He moved rapidly, getting into a position to keep himself in order. In focus and staring through the door. Waiting for the gun, the shout, the rush. Yet, it never came. One man stepped through. Familiar silhouette and careful eyes as the man shook slightly, nervous energy.

_Empty chairs at empty tables_

_Where my friends will sing no more..._

“ Joel?” his voice was a rasp. The lack of use and lack of true drinking water marring his voice as he looked up to the man that stood before him, familiar look blending into his skin.


	2. Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joel has been alone for a while, he had been alone much longer. He is starting to feel like the dead,he is starting to think they had it easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is about Joel before he met Ryan again in the office. See the end for further notes.

Joel walked slowly. He had finally returned to Texas. The fucking wasteland that it was now. He had run to Louisiana, hoping that the wetter area would mean safety. It meant for wet dead that smelt like shit because their skin took in too much water. Swampy dead. So fucking smelly. It was nearly a year by now, if he was correct about days. Time had began to slow. Emotions had began to weaken. He was a blank slate. He was a survivor with nothing to show. 

_I hurt myself today._

_To see if I still feel._

Joel was nearly to Austin. He went to his old apartment building. He pressed the elevator button knowing that it won't call it. He pressed the button three times. Then he lost himself a little. His fist came in contact with the forever shut elevator door, the pain rushed up his arm. He groans.

_I focus on the pain_

_The only thing that's real_

It made him remember for a moment. It makes him take a breath. The utter feeling of connection finding him as he stares down at his fist. Opening and closing his fingers hurt, it burned up his arm and to his shoulder. He takes a deep breath, his shoulders jumping pitifully. How did he even get this far? He was punching doors in the middle of the fucking apocalypse. He had lost them so soon. He had lost his mind and his friends. He remembered seeing Burnie one last time. He remembered him grabbing Ashley and his keys. He remembered Burnie saying he had to find his kids. That he had to go home to make sure they were safe with whomever was watching them. He remembered his last hug as he gave his soft worry. It didn't matter anymore. It never mattered. He sat down before the unmoving doors. He had forgot to really stitch up his arm for such a long time. Why not do it in an empty apartment building lobby. All was silent for now.

_The needle tears a hole._

_The old familiar sting_

Joel used to hate needles, he used to hope that he never got hurt too bad and need to get stitches. But over the past year or so, he was forced to stitch himself up several time. The tug had stopped hurt so bad after you got used to it. It fucking hurt like a bitch and Joel kept shifting and biting on his lip simply because he couldn't scream without getting caught. But the sting was decent, it reminded him that he wasn't the dead. He was alive, he could feel. And this wasn't a dream. It was all so real, he couldn't trick himself anymore.

_Try to kill it all away_

_But I remember everything_

He remembered Adam's voice, Matt and Jeremy's look when he promised to come back someday. He remembered seeing Gus talking to Barbara. He remembered everyone that day. The day after they thought they had a break in. When someone found their way in and when Matt came in to open up for everyone... He was bit. They weren't stupid. This wasn't a movie, or a story. They played video games, but it was so hard to believe. Zombies. The dead were walking. He tried for ages to forget Matt's face, to forget how Adam tried to keep everyone calm even though his voice squeaked with worry for everyone. He tried for too long to forget but he never could. Joel couldn't breathe that night. He had to go but the updates on TV said that all roads were backed up. He assumed he had to walk. He promised to come back. He swore he would. But none of it connected in the end. He came back too late.

_What have I become_

_My sweetest friend_

He passed a window on his stroll through the backstreets of the town. Austin was a hellhole. Buildings broken, Zombies strolling throughout in hordes. He kept high and silent. It was a slow method, but it kept him alive so far. Why did that feel worse when he thought it? Inside the window, his reflection blinked back. Eyes showing his exhaustion, pain kept his shoulders tight, and his hand shook as he held his hand near his hip. He looked like the dead, he knew it. But he couldn't help it. He had a promise to keep, and a lack of sleep didn't matter. 

_Everyone I know goes away_

_In the end_

He had met a few survivors, a few groups. Even some fans. Still he kept back. He couldn't help it. He knew they would die or grow smart and leave him. Some begged him to do his Caboose voice, but Caboose was someone too innocent to speak like in this hell. He didn't even know if he could pull off Caboose's blind optimism anymore. He never understood it, how Caboose could handle it all. The high stress and pain. Now he felt more like Washington if he had to make the connection within Red Vs Blue universe. He felt like he had to keep pressing on, but the pain rested on his shoulders and pulled him down. He had to hold himself up, and build what he could on the way. 

_And you could have it all_

_My empire of dirt_

They all promised him not to leave him behind, they all decided that people needed to stay together to survive. Joel simply thought of it as _if I die I need someone around to kill and bury me_. It was a selfish thought, but he understood. At least couples, so you could not roam the Earth as a zombie for the entire rest of the world. If it was still the world anyway. Joel decided that he would prefer to be alone in the end. No one needed to mourn him, no one had to see him wilt away to his own death. So he returned the empty promises with his own. He promised them the world, knowing they would leave. 

_I will let you down_

_I will make you hurt_

Every group he passed showed disappointment in the old bastard who still drank the pain away. He simply shrugged as he awoke one day and saw the group had left before he awoke. He picked up his bag again every time and continued his way. Be it toward or away from his promise. 

_I wear this crown of thorns_

_Upon my liar's chair_

He still lied everytime. No matter who it was. Often he found a walking dead fan that decided to steal Rick's “questions”. He answers were always the same. Enough to keep alive this long. None. Because someone else was always there. They would take him in or pass him by. He had killed. Three people. But it never mattered. They rarely thought on it anymore. He had stopped really looking after he decided to head home. Home being a relative term now. 

_Full of broken thoughts_

_I cannot repair_

_Beneath the stains of time_

_The feelings disappear_

The reason to head home was the lost. The broken edges of his thoughts trying to fit together. His memory as strong as ever, but his new thoughts never met. Never continued on. Never found the next comment that his brain conjured. Yet, he wanted to go back after he realized something. When he realized he didn't feel a thing when he watched a man get swarmed and eaten. No fear, no sickness. It was just... nothing. He had to keep going, had to find himself again. 

_You are someone else_

_I am still right here_

His friends had gone, but it was his fault. It was all his fault that they were gone. He still stood on the ground, in the world. Now, in Austin. But they were no longer there. They were something new, something pure and he was lost in the fallout. 

_What have I become_

_My sweetest friend_

He didn't know how to explain anymore who he was. It was easy in the past. An actor, a voice actor, a man that new stocks much too much. But now... He was nothing. He was a person surviving but he was no survivor. A survivor kept themselves through it, he had lost himself along the way. His shoulders flinched, his hands closing sharply as he thought about it. About his name no longer connecting to the person. 

_Everyone I know goes away_

_In the end_

His body shakes as he tries to put blame on another. He tried to take control. To connect the blame to his friends who were likely dead and gone. He was alone. People go crazy when alone. It wasn't his fault. If he had someone he could feel. If he could do it all again. His hands twitched, ink caught his eye. His old tattoo, the dumb joke that made no sense, normality. It meant nothing now. He had more scars, too many to continue the jokes about them. He didn't even think he was walking to his destination anymore. He knew trying to blame the dead was like trying to talk to the walking ones around. He soon gave up on it, his body still jumping now and then at nothing. But he soon enough just wanted to get away.

_And you could have it all_

_My empire of dirt_

He makes his way toward Stage 5. His eyes are sad, his body moves without much thought. He feels like he walks slower than the dead at this point. The knife on his belt hung tight to his hip, shaking slightly as he hummed. His hands kept close to his sides waiting to head in. He pleaded in his head, he begged with the God that he once thought he believed that had turned away so long ago. **Don't let their bodies be there.** He wouldn't be able to handle it. He wouldn't be able to breathe. He wouldn't be able to move if they came for him. He promised all he had, anything he could have for no dead being that he knew to be in there.

_I will let you down_

_I will make you hurt_

He, months back, hoped that when he got here, he would be able to meet one of the old co-workers. That someone survived. But it meant nothing by now. Who would come back to Austin for this? He also realized that all those he lost would be in so much pain to see him now. His body was much too thin, though he was fine with food. He kept his head down and became the dead before he even died. It was a weakness, he would never have them again. But he made himself a promise, that he wouldn't fuck up if he ever did find someone. Not again. 

_If I could start again_

_A million miles away_

_I would keep myself_

_I would find a way_

Joel decides to step through to the office. To the last spot he saw his friends. He took a soft breath as he goes through the halls. He never looked in, he was just taking a quick perimeter before anything happened. He heard a soft shift of feet on the floor, a bag ruffling. He took a deep breath, shaking his head. No one was allowed to loot this place. Not here. Not unless they were here first. He pulled his bat, eyes soft as he shook a bit. “Please no dead. Please no dead.” he begged something above. He couldn't see his friend as a zombie. He couldn't. He steps inside and someone turns to him sharply. The soft whisper is what made him drop his bat. His name. It finally connected again.

“Ryan? Fuck. You're alive...” Joel was shaking as he thought this over. He wouldn't lose him. He wouldn't walk away from another. Not Ryan. He would start over with his life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for forgetting about this little story. I have decided to continue it and start on another one for this year. This one will likely continue on with Joel and Ryan's story. The other will likely be some other couple of people. I hope you all enjoy this still!


End file.
